Torn Memories and New Beginnings
by Lizzzers
Summary: Alfred had never seen Arthur so angry before. Distressed, he seeks out those who know him better than anyone; even Arthur. Revolutionary fic. Side story to This Is Justice.


This is a side-story based off of 'This Is Justice.' It'd probably make more sense if you went and read my other story (This Is Justice) before this one, but it can stand alone as a one shot anyway. It was written for my lovely reviewer Vanilla Slash who had requested a comfort fic between Alfred and some of the founding fathers. This was written in the wee hours of the am, so if there are any typos I apologize. I hope you enjoy this m'dear!

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Alfred stared in numb shock at the tattered remains of his childhood. There on the floor was the plush bunny that he had cherished the moment Arthur gave it to him. He'd even named it Flopsy. Flopsy had kept him company on rainy nights when Arthur was overseas. On those nights he'd pretend that maybe some of that magic Arthur claimed to have was in the stuffed rabbit and would watch over him, just until the storm had passed.

Now the rabbit's creator had ripped it apart, and Alfred was standing there and staring at it. He slowly looked up from the rabbit to Arthur, who looked _furious._ In fact, he wasn't even sure if furious was a sufficient word for the anger in those green eyes. With forced bravado Alfred squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes, which were _not _filled with tears. Not a single one, nope.

"Get-Out."

His voice was low, but the dark undertones didn't seem to faze Arthur.

The Island Nation glowered, "There's going to be repercussions for this." He paused and looked down at the plush rabbit that he had made so many years ago, now ripped apart in a fit of rage. Arthur hated what it had come to represent. The little boy who had loved the plush and him was long gone.

Without waiting another moment Arthur stepped forward to leave, making sure he crushed the body of the stuffed rabbit beneath the heel of his boot.

Alfred made a strangled sound as Arthur walked on past, not sparing a glance for the colony that had declared war on the British Empire.

Footsteps echoed throughout the house only to be replaced by the sound of a door slamming shut, and then all was quiet. Alfred shakily took a step forward and knelt down in front of the ruined memory. Hands reached out, long fingers hovering over the white fur uncertainly.

Finally he scooped up the two parts of the stuffed rabbit. The head had been ripped clean off, and the body was covered in mud from when Arthur had stepped on it.

More of the stuffing fell out of the gaping holes onto the floor through his fingers. Alfred cradled the broken toy to his chest; head tilted forward as tears coursed down his cheeks. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was stronger than this. Blue eyes clenched shut as he tried to fight back the embarrassing reaction. Try as he might the crying just got worse, and soon he was sobbing and gasping for air.

His eyes closed tighter as he leaned over and pressed his forehead into the floor. "Arthur." He breathed the name, choking on it as he tried not to let the event bother him so much. The thought of this happening to his beloved founders kept making his stomach flip, and the tears only intensified.

Alfred arched up suddenly, eyes opened wide when an alarming thought occurred to him. He reached up with the hand not holding Flopsy and roughly rubbed at his eyes that just wouldn't stop leaking.

He had to go make sure they were okay.

He didn't bother to grab a jacket or a sack to put Flopsy in. There was no time to waste. Alfred held the two parts protectively close to his chest, making sure that no more stuffing escaped in the meantime.

Alfred rushed out of his room and down the hall, tracing the steps Arthur had taken not long ago. Arthur had slammed the front door so hard that it had bounced back open without ever latching shut. Which worked well for Alfred as he roughly shouldered it further ajar and took off at a sprint down the path out to the street.

Mud lapped at his feet and with each long stride he sank into the wet earth a little bit more. Of course it would be raining. Though Alfred was grateful for it. Maybe his tears could be mistaken for the poor weather.

Hope springs eternal.

The storm only worsened during his sprint. He knew the land like the back of his own hands though, and took a shortcut through the woods. He didn't slow down, even when branches whipped at his face and he tripped over roots. There was only one goal and that was to make sure they were alright.

Alfred held on tighter to Flopsy as he jumped over a low bush and made a beeline straight for the house just barely visible in the distance.

By the time he had reached the house Alfred was panting and soaked through. The wind had picked up and the drops of rain felt like little needles poking into his skin as he stood on the doorstep. Alfred reached up and rubbed his forearm across his eyes one last time hoping the tears would stop before he then knocked on the wooden door.

Moments later the door was opened and a tall, brown-haired man stood before him.

"Yes? Alfred!" The professional greeting was forgotten as the man took in the sight of his disheveled nation whose blue eyes were rimmed in red and made the blue all the more striking.

Alfred's hair was matted to his skull, eyes wide as he held out the destroyed plush for his Commander in Chief to see. "I…I didn't want – I was worried."

"George is something the matter?" Another voice piped in as an elderly man with glasses stepped closer to the front door so he could peek around Washington's shoulder. "Oh my." Benjamin reached out and took the torn rabbit from Alfred's hands while George gripped the shaking nation by the shoulder and led him inside.

Alfred was still crying, his voice hoarse as he tried to explain. "H-he was _so _mad."

Benjamin followed after George who guided Alfred into the sitting room where a fire was already blazing. Washington stopped in front of the fire and began peeling off the waistcoat Alfred had worn. "Shh, you can tell us all about it in a moment." George glanced over to Benjamin who set the plush down on the table before turning to go and find some towels.

With a concerned frown George leaned down so he could look Alfred in the eyes. "Alfred, you're going to catch a cold or worse if you don't get out of these wet clothes." He then smiled, just a small quirk of the lips that spoke volumes. "And my bedside manners for dealing with the sick are terrible."

Alfred sniffed and looked up at George with a miserable smile, "Liar." But he went ahead and began pulling off his long sleeved shirt and then the breeches as well. Just as he finished Benjamin had returned. He threw one towel over Alfred's head and began rubbing the hair dry as George offered the shivering nation another towel that he could wrap around him.

"Sit down in front of the fire and get your shoes off silly boy." Benjamin's voice was light as he directed Alfred, who did so without needing to be told twice.

Oh no, his shoes. Alfred peeked out from the towel on his head and looked at the muddy footprints all over the floor. "I'm sorry." His eyes were wide again, tears threatening to fall at any moment.

George and Benjamin exchanged a look as the younger of the two knelt in front of Alfred. "I was just about to go out for more firewood anyway. The mud would've gotten in with or without your help." George's voice was soft, comforting.

Alfred nodded his head but the trembling of his lower lip soon led to more crying, "I've gone and messed things up! If something happens to either of you, any of you it's my fault and all because I was selfish!" The words tumbled out. George leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Alfred, who was shaking despite the warmth from the flames.

Benjamin gently lifted the towel off of Alfred's head and set the wet cloth aside. He walked over and sat down in the chair next to the plush and set to work as George wordlessly comforted their nation.

They remained like that for some time, with Alfred sobbing into Washington's shoulder and Benjamin off to the side with needle and thread in hand. Finally the sobs slowed to hiccups and then to sniffles. Only when Alfred's shoulders had ceased their shivering did George lean back from him.

"Feel better?" George gently set one hand atop the mess of blond hair while the other had a firm grip on Alfred's shoulders.

Alfred nodded once, looking at the floor in shame. George gave him a very slight shake so as to get his attention. Wearily Alfred peered up from under his bangs at the man whose shoulder he'd just used as a handkerchief.

"I won't have you beating yourself up over this." George was using his General's voice, the one where people just seemed to listen and do what he said. "That is what we're here for, what I'm here for. It's all going to take some getting used to." Those clear blue eyes remained locked on Alfred's own. "You are America. Remember that. Your people are strong, even grumpy old Franklin over there." George smiled as he made the joke.

A 'humph' as Ben mumbled, "Young whippersnappers."

Both of George's hands were now placed on either of Alfred's shoulders. "You're still growing, but I know what sort of nation you'll be." He paused and this time the smile was wider than most ever witnessed of the charismatic General, "A free one."

Alfred sniffed and smiled a little in response. "And an awesome one."

George arched one brow, "That as well." He reached over to the pile of dry clothes that Ben had left nearby and held out a large shirt for Alfred to pull on. George then took the wet towel that had been draped about his shoulders and set it off to the side with the other dirty linens.

"Get some rest America." George spoke softly and America looked up at him, eyes wide with fear as he regarded him. "Will you be here when I wake up?" Alfred sounded like a lost child as he asked the question.

The Commander in Chief smiled as he helped Alfred to his feet and led him over to the large couch situated near the fire. He eased the nation onto his back so that he was lying on the cushions, and instantly his eyelids began to droop.

"Well this is my home. I imagine I'll be right here when you awake." George grabbed a quilt that Martha had made for him and pulled it over Alfred, who already seemed to be drifting off.

"Mmgood." Alfred closed his eyes for a few moments, only to open them when he realized what was missing. "Flopsy?"

Ben got up out of the chair he'd been sitting in. He walked over to Alfred and snuggled the plush rabbit just beneath his chin so that the boy's arms could wrap about it. The nation sighed in relief and was fast asleep in seconds.

The two men stood there regarding the sleeping teenager with bemused expressions.

"I've got a jacket that could use some mending…" George began in a whisper as he cast a sly glance over towards the inventor.

Benjamin rolled his eyes and returned to the chair so he could put the needle and thread away that had been used to fix Alfred's 'Flopsy.'

"You may be my Commander in Chief, but I am _not _your seamstress."

The house was quiet save for the pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof. George sighed as he watched Alfred who was probably getting the best sleep he had in years.

"Do you suppose he's up to this?" Benjamin asked quietly, having returned to Washington's side.

Without hesitating he replied. "Without a doubt."

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Not a lot of historical or story notes to be made. Obviously George Washington and Benjamin Franklin are the stars here. Often times the key founding fathers would get together and discuss things or play a game of chess. While not all of them got along, some did, better than others obviously. Martha was George's wife, and the two seemed very madly in love from the few letters recovered that they had exchanged. Flopsy is a stuffed plush that Arthur made for his beloved colony America, in happier times. Once again this is directly based off a few subtle references (and some not so subtle) of my story 'This Is Justice' which I would suggest reading if you'd like to better understand this story.


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